For Fear of You
by Shipperwolf
Summary: Season 1 fic, therefore some AU. Michael is waiting for Sara when she comes home one night after the breakout.
1. Chapter 1

Heya all . This here's an older fic I wrote nearer to the end of the 1st season. I was given a request to post some older stuff for those who havent seen most of season 2 and don't want spoilers. So here's one of a few season 1 fics!! Pleeze R&R!!

I own zipp;)

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It had started out as a simple interest in him. Something about Michael's personality had seemed to pull her in.

She had no idea she would be pulled in so far at the time, however, and Sara allowed her interest to grow.

And evolve into something more.

It quickly became amusement. When he smiled at her it caused her to grin in return. When he laughed, she found herself laughing with him. She was even amused at his easy way of flirting with her. It was as if it never occurred to him that he was in a prison.

Then, out of nowhere, Sara found herself caring about him. The many times he came into the infirmary bleeding, her heart rate jumped beyond what it should have. It was more than a doctor being concerned for her patient….she was concerned for HIM….for Michael as a person.

By the time he leaned forward to kiss her, she was very much aware that she was falling in love with him.

Falling…fallen, she wasn't sure which just yet.

Walking along the sidewalk in front of her apartment for what had to be the tenth time that night, Sara's love for Michael was being interfered with by another feeling towards him.

Fear.

She'd left the infirmary door unlocked, and right about now he, his brother, and God knew who else was outside the prison walls, running, hiding, escaping.

She wasn't afraid that Michael was going to come after her or harm her. Deep down, she knew he would never lay a violent hand on her.

But when Michael stood in her infirmary room and told her the truth, she came to a shattering realization.

She had no idea who Michael really was. And her trust in him meant nothing.

Because of this, she was afraid of him. She didn't know him…and yet she still felt the warm tug in her heart that she knew was love.

A tug that haunted her as she paced the cement, returning from a mentally exhausting walk of reflection and realization.

She'd had enough of it. The lies, the secrets, and the pain.

Knowing the truth made it hurt even more. He had used her every step of the way, and she fell right into his manipulation.

But what he'd said to her was still a whispered echo in the back of his mind.

'I needed to be here…but then I wanted to be here…with you.'

Could she believe that?  
She wasn't sure.

She wasn't sure of anything anymore.

Except that she was scared, scared to worry about his well-being, scared to hope for a successful escape, and scared to continue caring about him so deeply.

She wanted to do all of those things, but at the same time, she wanted to be bitter towards him. Maybe not hate, exactly, but definitely be bitter and angry.

But what had to frighten Sara most was the thought of ever seeing him again. If she did, she would have no idea what to do. Kiss him or slap him…or both?

Part of her, the part that listened to that warm tug, hoped to hear his voice through her cell phone that very second. The other part wanted to forget him completely.

Either way, she had the distinct feeling she would be seeing Michael soon. He had left no message of such, no clue, no promise.

But she knew. Michael would contact her in some way. She felt it.

She feared it.

Now, sitting on her couch, flipping through the endless news channels, all broadcasting the same story of the Fox River escape, her fears were suddenly realized.

Without her even noticing he had hidden away in the shadows of her hallway, and she had never known he was there until he stepped into her living room and quietly pleaded with her not to scream.

Staring into his eyes, the eyes that always seemed to pierce through her like a blade, she watched them narrow in what looked like worry and pain, and looked down to find the remote shaking visibly in her hand.

He saw her fear. He knew she was afraid. His hand reached out to steady hers…


	2. Chapter 2

Voila, chap 2!! unfortunately, for some reason, i've yet to complete the 3rd and last chapter o.0 and i wrote this fic a LONG time agooooo...but i'll see whats up ;)

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Michael felt his own hand tremble slightly upon coming in contact with Sara's. Silently, slowly, he pried the remote from her clenched fingers, setting it down on the table next to the couch.

He hadn't expected her to respond this way. Where was the anger? The snatching of the phone to call the police on him? The loud command to leave immediately?

That was what he had seen taking place in his head while he had stood in hallway, waiting for the off-duty doctor to set her bag down and relax.

He did NOT expect this. Fear. Fear of him it seemed. Her body was so stiff he could see it as well as feel it. Her eyes avoided his, concentrating instead on their joined hands. Nervousness and fear is what he saw in them.

But at the same time, she made no move to push him away. This indicated some sense of trust.

He hoped anyway.

He crouched in front of her, bringing his face directly in front of hers, causing her to finally look at him.

"Sara. Please, stop."

He saw her confusion at his plea, and he gripped her hand tighter.

"Stop shaking. Stop being afraid."

Her body only tensed more under his fingers, bringing him near to desperation and worry.

"I won't hurt you….Sara, you know I would never do something like that. Right?"

Michael had to strain to hear her mumbled whisper.

"I know, that's not it…"

"Then what is it? What are you afraid of?"

They were both whispering now, and if not for the situation at hand he would have found it funny that they were doing so.

"I'm not afraid of you, Michael. It's not you…it's…how you make me act when I'm around you. How I feel. It's wrong. You shouldn't be here. You need to go."

There it was. The confession, and the shut out. Unfortunately for Sara, he had no intention of leaving. Not now.

"No."

"No?"

An eyebrow raised at his determination. Snatching her hand from his, Sara leaned back against the couch, seemingly wanting to distance herself from him.

The one thing he didn't want her to do.

"I'm not going anywhere. If you really want me leave, call the police."

He knew he was daring her.

But he also knew she wouldn't do it.

The more Sara tried to lean away, the closer he leaned in, until Michael finally found himself practically pinning her to the couch.

Hovering over her, their breaths were hot against each other's faces, and he smiled when Sara's glare faded into a look of desperation, frustration, and what he knew to be longing.

"The phone is right beside us. Call the cops, and I won't stop you. But that's the only way you're going to get me to leave."

Sara continued to stare for a moment, before finally releasing a sigh. He knew what it meant. A sigh of defeat.

Michael nearly backed away when her eyes then pierced his with an intense fervor.

"What do you want, Michael?"

Her question seemed to ignite something inside of him. A cynical side that he hadn't known existed until she spoke. He knew he should give her a straightforward answer….or he could indulge this strange and sudden need to be playful.

He leaned in closer than before, causing her chest to make contact with his. He practically had her pinned to the couch, in a sitting position, his arms holding him up and preventing her escape at the same time.

"You know what I want."

Sara's glare widened to a look of shock. Even Michael himself was taken aback at the deep tone his voice had taken.

He didn't understand what was causing him to act this way.

He had used this woman in an intricate plot to break out of a federal prison, and now he was playing with her head?

Michael's reason couldn't comprehend his current actions. But his body certainly could.

Sara shifted underneath him, causing him to move forward, trapping her even more.

"I…I don't know what you want, Michael. Tell me…."

A grin played on his lips before disappearing a second later.

For some reason he wasn't feeling humorous. On a normal day he would have loved to make quirky remarks while receiving his shot.

But they were no longer in Fox River.

They were in her apartment.

And he was on top of her.

His mind muttered every curse known to man.

And his body paid no attention whatsoever.

His mouth was at her cheek before he knew it, stopping just before meeting her ear.

"No. You know what I want, Sara. You tell ME."


	3. Chapter 3

YAY, I'm finally done with this fic! I hope it is to the readers' liking . plz R&R

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"You tell ME…"

Sara blinked a few times, trying to figure whether or not this was really Michael who had her pinned down on the couch, whispering seductively in her ear.

Had he really just said that?

And even more importantly, was he serious?

He certainly looked so. And the look he was giving her now made her stomach feel empty and her heart beat a bit faster.

Wait…wasn't she supposed to be upset with him? Wasn't he supposed to leave now?

She wanted to push him away, off of her, and out of her apartment.

If she succeeded, maybe he would leave her alone…

And yet…

"What do I want, Sara?"

She knew the answer, and unfortunately, she knew she wanted the same thing.

He had played with her emotions, deceived her, and used her. He didn't deserve to…

Michael's mouth crashed into hers and broke her reverie.

Her reason screamed in frustration before melting away altogether under the familiarity of his lips.

She cursed once under her breath before responding. Michael exhaled forcefully through the nose as they kissed, as if his lungs had been holding in an insane amount of air.

The moment he did so she knew she had lost the battle.

It seemed she always did.

He was going to defeat her once again.

Only this time, in a much larger way.

Maybe she could still stop it….

"Michael, we can't…just…"

He didn't let her finish. Michael's hand slipped underneath her shirt to rest on her stomach.

No…she had lost.

When his hands began to travel upwards she knew all hope was gone. He had her…

Sara's hips rose in reaction to his light touches.

And that's when Michael seemed to snap.

Never had she seen him so serious, so focused, and so…lustful.

His tongue had delved into her mouth, his body pressing into hers instinctively. He nipped at her tongue as they met…no man had ever done that to her before.

She had a feeling Michael's version of sex was going to be an adventure.

Granted, Sara had experienced forceful intimacy before. She'd had several of her old junkie boyfriends get rough and desperate under the effects of drugs.

But Michael wasn't influenced by anything. Except his own need to be with her.

That thought alone had Sara's mind reeling and her stomach churning.

In a blur his head left her mouth, moving at an angle to her neck.

A soft prick signaled his teeth chewing delicately at the skin.

Her hands came up to meet his back in response to the heat that was pooling into her gut, her nails scratching at his shirt until he momentarily ceased and discarded the clothing.

His tattooed chest hovered over her.

Moving slowly, she traced the intricate lines up his arms, across his torso and down his stomach, stopping to rest just above the hem of his pants.

Michael was silent, but she could feel his eyes following her movements as she explored him.

She could also feel something else. Something that pressed against her leg and sent a tremor of anticipation wracking through her.

In an impulsive response she bucked her hips upwards, and earned an almost primal grunt from the man who had her pinned to the couch.

The sensation of Michael's touches was exhilarating, from the way his tongue lapped her neck to the motion of his fingers as they ran across her stomach.

Michael quickly went to work on getting rid of the rest of their clothes. The speed in which he pulled off her shirt, undid the buttons on both of their pairs of jeans, reach behind her to the clasp of her bra, all told her two things:

He was completely desperate to have her.

And he seemed to be in a hurry.

In the back of her mind the whisper of 'Sara the reasonable, cynical doctor' made its presence known, reminding her that his being here, in her apartment, made her an immediate accomplice.

But then again…she already was. It was she who had let them out.

The whispers faded under the weight of Michael's body pressing against hers.

It was only then she realized he had maneuvered their positions and she was suddenly straddling him.

And they were completely without clothing.

Her throat ran dry.

She bit her lip.

And Michael gripped at her bare back as he entered her without any warning.

Sara's head flew back in a natural response to the feeling that he had sent coursing through her pelvis and into her gut.

She could herself muttering something, broken tid-bits of words and expressions that could only be made when having sex.

Something like "Oh God" dripped from her lips, but all she could hear was the sound of Michael's groans.

She looked down at him from her perch on his middle.

His head was pressed against the back of the couch, but his eyes remained cracked open. Their blue orbs were clouded grey.

"Sara…"

Her name, a rumbled moan in his throat, was all it took for her to lean down and crash her lips into his.

His hands moved down her back and found a solid grip on her bottom.

He pushed her up.

And pulled her down.

And Sara suddenly saw a blurry white.

Gritting her teeth she helped his motions, using her knees as leverage to get the right tempo going.

The blunt but beautiful nails of her lover dug into the flesh of her bosom as she rode him.

Michael's eyes finally shut tight, and his deep groans came forth more often, coupling themselves with her soft screams.

Sara's legs were going numb and her throat burned, but she made no effort to stop or slow down. Michael's body leading their dance made sure she would not even try.

With a grunt he pushed up into her, once, twice, and then paused, for just a moment, before grabbing her again and pulling her down onto him a final time as his climax hit him in a wave of incomprehensible pleasure.

Sara felt the heat of him searing through her, mixing with her own spasms, joining them in a permanence of body and soul.

His name was on her tongue before he attacked it with his own one last time, and fell back with her to lay against the sweat-soaked cushions.

They did not speak.

Michael had not even moved to pull out of her.

Lost in the thoughts of what they had just done, and what it meant, the two merely lay silent, until the sounds of their slow breaths lulled one to sleep.

Sara watched Michael's eyes roll back slightly before they were concealed by lids. Sighing heavily, she moved to get off of him.

His arms snaked around her waist of their own accord, and held her there.

And she had no choice but to allow sleep to take her as well.

A groggy Sara blinked twice in the morning sunlight as it reflected off of a glass lamp.

The first thing she noticed was the stickiness between her legs.

Swallowing hard and shifting her legs uncomfortably, she moved to rise, but decided against it when her weak arms failed her and she fell face-first back into the pillow with a moan.

She stopped however, suddenly aware of her surroundings.

Her face, on a pillow.

She was in her bed.

The comforter covered half of her nude form.

Her clothes lay folded neatly at the end of the bed.

Sara inhaled sharply at remembering what had taken place the previous night.

She and Michael…on the couch…so how was she…?

He had carried her to her bed, she realized.

And according to the dead silence that filled the apartment, he had done so, and left.

Her eyes clamped shut as a tear broke through and rolled down her cheek.

Had he only come to satisfy some physical need?

Her heart beat angrily at thinking he had come to her for a one-night stand..

And then it skipped, when her damp and blurred eyes came to rest on the paper crane lying on her bedside table.

Reaching with a shaky hand she picked it up, examining it and confirming its maker.

She could see dark lines through the thin paper, and unfolded it to reveal words.

Sara was met with another onslaught of threatening tears as she read the simple message and nodded subconsciously…

"_Wait for me."_


End file.
